“Well, he was following the trail, all right, when he got here,” Allan asserted, with a positive way that seemed convincing.
“But you said at first he saw the bear, when he took to running.”
“I thought he did,” replied the trail hunter, “but since then I’ve come to the conclusion I was wrong. Still, you can see that he kept on, for bear, Bumpus and the two men are written in the tracks as plain as print.”
“Yes, that’s so, Allan. But there don’t seem to be any sign of life ahead. Here, what’s the matter with you, Old Eagle Eye? Just look beyond, and see if you c’n discover our brave chum up a tree somewhere?”
Thus appealed to, and complimented rather than otherwise by the title which Step Hen had thrust upon him, Giraffe did stretch his long neck, and scan the region ahead.
“Don’t see him a waiving to us, up in one of those trees?” the other asked.
“Nixy,” returned the one with the keen vision, a shade of disappointment perceptible in his voice. “I c’n see heaps of trees, and p’raps there might be a boy sittin’ up in one of the same; but if he’s waving to us, I don’t get on to his wave. But hold on!”
“Oh! then you do see something?” cried Step Hen, pulling back the hammer of his repeating rifle eagerly.
“Not in a tree,” replied Giraffe, cautiously.
Something in his manner, perhaps in his paling face as well, gave Thad a nervous chill. As for himself, he had not discovered anything amiss; but perhaps his range of vision was more limited than that of the tall scout; or possibly he did not chance to be looking in the same direction.